


An Occasion Involving Presents

by bryoneybrynn



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, none. - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-07
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-03-29 12:05:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3895663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bryoneybrynn/pseuds/bryoneybrynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Harry and Draco's first anniversary and presents are proving to be a tricky thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Occasion Involving Presents

Written for the lovely and generous [](http://leochi.livejournal.com/profile)[**leochi**](http://leochi.livejournal.com/) , who likes her fics fluffy. :)

 **Title:** An Occasion Involving Presents  
 **Pairing:** Harry/Draco  
 **Rating:** PG  
 **Word count:** 2700  
 **Summary:** It's Harry and Draco's first anniversary and presents are proving to be a tricky thing.  
 **Warnings:** None.  
 **Beta:** The awesome [](http://tray-la-la.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://tray-la-la.livejournal.com/)**tray_la_la** who saved this story from its horrifying first draft.  
 **Disclaimer:** : This is a work of fanfiction. Harry Potter et al belong to JK Rowling, her publishers and associated movie studios. No profit was made from this work. All characters depicted in sexual situations are above the age of 18.

 

 

An Occasion Involving Presents

Draco woke slowly, letting himself drift on the edge of sleep for several long moments before opening his eyes. It was morning; bits of sunlight seeped through cracks in the curtains, painting bright stripes across the bed. Beside him, Harry was curled up in the blankets, sleeping soundly.

Draco nestled into his pillow and gave a contented sigh that he would never have allowed himself were Harry awake. He loved this time of day, the quiet moments of early morning when those first sneaky rays of sunlight kissed Harry’s skin golden, making him glow. In the few minutes before Harry opened his eyes, Draco could watch him, just watch, and let every silly, sappy thought he was having show on his face without worrying about anyone seeing it. He could look his fill, could drink in the long dark lashes, the generous pink mouth, the wild hair, the infamous scar.

It was his secret, this morning ritual, this daily worship. He’d never admit to anyone just how much he cherished every one of Harry’s slow, deep breaths, the curve of his hand against the pillow, the strong line of his jaw relaxed in sleep.

Harry’s eyes squinched a bit and he puffed out a soft breath. It was the start of a routine Draco had come to know well over the last year. Next, Harry would tuck in his chin and burrow into his pillow. Then, after a minute or two, his shoulders would pull up in a last ditch attempt to hold onto sleep, but a moment later his green eyes would open and seek Draco out. Finally, Harry would smile a soft, sleepy smile and reach out for him.

Draco watched as Harry moved into wakefulness, waiting for the moment when Harry would look over at him, when his hand would find Draco’s hip underneath the blankets.

This morning though, Harry altered his routine, pulling Draco tight against him and burying his face in Draco’s neck. Draco curved into him eagerly. He loved it when Harry awoke in an amorous mood. He ran a hand up Harry’s arm, over his shoulder, and then down his back

“Mmmm,” Harry hummed contentedly and drew Draco even closer.

Draco nipped gently at Harry’s ear. “Happy anniversary, Harry.”

There was a slight pause and then, “You remembered.”

“Of course I remembered!” Draco drew back to look at Harry, a frown on his face. “You thought I’d forget?”

Harry shrugged, looking uncertain and a bit embarrassed and just so very _Harry_. “I just wasn’t sure whether or not two blokes celebrated things like anniversaries.”

Draco rolled his eyes and settled in close again. “I’d have thought you’d know by now that I celebrate any and all occasions involving presents.”

“Ah, of course. How silly of me,” Harry laughed.

Then Harry’s eyes fluttered closed and his mouth found Draco’s, the kiss soft and slow, hinting at pleasures to come. He licked and nibbled at Draco’s lips, ghosted his mouth along Draco’s jaw, pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses to Draco’s neck.

Draco shivered at the feeling of Harry’s mouth on his skin, desire unfurling in his belly. A year in and Harry’s kisses undid him just as quickly as they had that first night. Still, there were pressing matters to attend to.

“So where is it?” he managed after a moment, his voice wavering only slightly.

“Where is what?” Harry asked, his mouth not leaving Draco’s neck.

“My present, you arse. You did get me one, didn’t you?”

“Yes, Draco,” Harry murmured, rolling them over in the bed until he was on top of Draco. “I got you a present.”

“I hope for your sake that it’s something besides your cock.”

“‘Course,” Harry said and brushed his lips against Draco’s. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t have both.”

“Yes, but your cock I have every day, sometimes more than once. I want the other one.”

“Okay, okay.”

With one last kiss to Draco’s neck, Harry slid off of him and sat up. Draco did too, excited despite himself. Gifts weren’t exactly Harry’s strong suit, but a present was a present and Draco loved presents.

Harry retrieved his wand from the bedside table. “Accio Draco’s present,” he said and a small, brightly wrapped box came flying out of a nearby dresser drawer.

Harry caught it neatly but didn’t pass it over to Draco straight away. Instead, he turned it about in his hands, worrying at the ribbon and the corners of the wrapping. “I hope you don’t think it’s stupid.”

“I won’t, Harry.” Draco tried to make his voice as reassuring as possible, his eyes glued to the box.

“It’s not anything –” Harry started but then broke off, apparently deciding against offering excuses for the gift. He thrust it into Draco’s hands.

Draco opened it quickly, eager to see what was inside. Beneath the wrapping was a plain cardboard box with no markings of any kind. When he opened it, he found a small gold ball resting on a bed of wool.

“A Snitch?” Draco asked, confused. It was true he and Harry enjoyed playing Quidditch together, but it seemed like an odd choice for an anniversary present.

Beside him, Harry was fidgeting nervously. “I don’t know if you know, but Snitches have flesh memory. They –”

“Remember the first person ever to touch them,” Draco said. “So there’s no debate as to who caught them first. But what does that have to do...” He trailed off as realisation dawned and he looked at Harry, amazed. “Harry, is this...?”

Harry smiled shyly. “Yeah. Here, look. There’s a message that shows when you, and only you, hold it.”

Draco pulled the Snitch out of the box and turned it round in his hand. Sure enough, a message appeared in glowing gold letters against the surface of the ball. _May 29, 2003 – Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter start over (and Draco beats Harry to the Snitch)._

Draco ran a finger over the delicate script, smiling at the memory the words called forth.

It had been at an engagement party for a mutual friend they hadn’t known was mutual at the time. He and Harry had successfully avoided each other for most of the evening but somehow, after the formalities were over and the liquor had begun to flow a little more freely, they’d found themselves alone at a table, arguing about Quidditch. There had been brief reminiscing and much slagging off, and before either of them knew what was happening, they were Apparating (unwisely, given their state) to a nearby pitch and breaking into an equipment rental shed.

Draco had won. It had been the first time he’d ever beaten Harry to the Snitch, but the victory had been secondary to the shift that had taken place in their relationship. Neither one of them had said anything at the time, but everything had changed between them that night. Of course, it was many more months before they did anything about it, but still...

“You kept it? All this time?”

Harry glanced down at his hands and shrugged. “It seemed like a day I would want to remember. With you.”

Draco turned the Snitch over in his hands, re-reading the words that appeared. That Harry had thought there might be a moment where they would sit together and recall their beginnings, that he’d felt that on that very first day... Draco felt something in his chest tighten.

“I can’t believe your present is a busted up old Snitch.” Draco tried for a sneer but he knew he wasn’t fooling anyone.

Fortunately, Harry knew him well enough not to say anything about it and instead grinned and let the moment lighten. “You know me, I’m a cheap bastard.”

When Draco was quite sure he wouldn’t do anything humiliating like tear up or go all wobbly, he looked over at Harry. “Thank you for this.”

“You’re welcome.” Harry pressed a kiss to Draco’s jaw and then grinned again. “Okay, where’s mine? Or did you want to continue with the sex first?”

“Presents first, sex second. I plan on spending all day being pleasured by you and I don’t want any interruptions once we start.”

“No, heaven forbid there be interruptions. Please, proceed.”

Draco smirked. “Prepare to be grateful. And to show your gratitude with your tongue. Preferably, on my arsehole.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Just get on with it.”

Draco hesitated only a second before lifting the concealing charm that hid his present from sight.

A medium-sized portrait in a simple wooden frame appeared above the bedroom fireplace. It showed Harry lying on his back, bare-chested, one hand raking through his wild black hair.

Draco felt Harry go stiff beside him. He turned to see the other man’s face but Harry was already rising from the bed, moving towards the picture to take a closer look. He stopped only a foot away and stared at it in silence for so long that Draco began to worry.

“Harry?” he asked, climbing off the bed to join Harry in front of the fireplace. “Do you not like it?”

“Did you commission this?” Harry asked, not looking at him.

“Yes,” Draco replied, somewhat bewildered by Harry’s hard jaw and tight voice. “I had it made as an anniversary gift.”

There was another long, heavy silence, and then Harry said, “It’s beautiful, Draco. Thank you.”

Draco reached out and took Harry by the shoulders, turning him until they faced each other. He studied Harry’s face, taking in the tension around his mouth and forehead, the way his eyes avoided Draco’s.

“Out with it.”

Harry blinked. “Out with what?”

“With whatever’s floating around in that thick head of yours.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Harry gave him a look that Draco supposed was meant to appear neutral but completely missed the mark. If anything, Harry seemed even more agitated than before.

“Harry, you’re shit at hiding your feelings and you’re a shit liar. Obviously, I’ve upset you with this.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I –”

Draco cut him off. “Don’t make me do this the hard way. I’m a much better Legilimens than you are an Occlumens, but it wouldn’t be pretty for either of us.”

Harry sighed heavily and his shoulder slumped. “It just...” Harry trailed off, staring down at his feet as he dug his toes into the soft pile of the carpet.

“What?”

Harry remained quiet, his eyes on the floor.

“What?” Draco asked again, sharply this time. He was starting to lose his patience.

“It doesn’t look much like me,” Harry said at last, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Draco looked at the painting and then back at Harry. “What are you talking about?”

“No glasses, my hand hiding my scar, my hair all...”

He made a vague swirling gesture around his head that Draco didn’t quite understand.

“You would have preferred something like the one down at the Ministry, you with your wand brandished, scar blazing? All “Harry Potter, Slayer of Voldemort and Saviour of the Wizarding World?”

“No! Fuck no!”

“So, then...” Draco prodded.

Harry’s eyes dropped back down to the carpet.

“So help me, Harry, I’m about one second away from getting my wand.”

“He’s better looking than me,” Harry mumbled.

“Excuse me?”

Harry’s eyes snapped up to meet his and for the first time, Harry looked angry. “I know what I look like, Draco, and it’s not like that.” He flung a hand toward the painting. “You give me something like this, what am I supposed to think? I mean, fuck, is this what you want? How you wish I looked?”

“Harry, this _is_ how you look.”

Harry looked at him sceptically. “Draco, I know you like to joke about my intelligence, but I’m not, in fact, an idiot.”

“Actually, I think you just might be.”

Harry glared at him.

“God, you’re going to actually make me say it out loud, aren’t you?” Draco gave an exasperated sigh and closed his eyes. He didn’t open them as he spoke. “Harry, this picture shows you exactly as you are. The artist didn’t change anything. Yes, I could have given you the typical Harry Potter portrait, the one with the glasses and the scar and the scowl that strikes fear into the hearts of evil-doers and makes witches everywhere swoon. But that Harry, that’s the Boy Who Lived. Everyone knows that Harry, he belongs to the world.

Draco opened his eyes but avoided looking at Harry, instead turning his attention to the portrait. “This Harry, on the other hand, this is the Harry _I_ know. This is the Harry I see every night when I go to bed and every morning when I wake up. This is the Harry who stumbles around half-awake in the morning until he gets his toast and tea. This is the Harry who hums old Muggle songs he doesn’t know the names of while cleaning the kitchen. This is the Harry who likes it when I run my tongue up the back of his thighs and nip at his arse cheeks. Not the Boy Who Lived, not the hero. Just you. _My_ Harry. I wanted to show you what I see when I look at you.”

Taking a deep breath, he turned to face Harry, who was staring at him like he’d never seen him before. Draco felt a blush stealing over his cheeks. Fucking Harry and his idiotic insecurities, forcing him make a fool of himself.

He sent Harry an icy glare of his own. “You’re beautiful, Harry, okay? Stop whining and get over it.”

Harry stared a minute more and then he closed the space between them, his hands coming to rest on Draco’s hips, fingers gripping gently but firmly. His eyes were full of apologies. “I’m being an arsehole, aren’t I?”

“I don’t know about an arsehole. You’re being a girl, that’s for certain,” Draco said with a sniff. “Lucky for you, you have a very patient and understanding boyfriend.”

Harry touched his forehead to Draco’s. “Very lucky for me.”

“Honestly, Potter, how could you not know what you look like?”

Harry took Draco’s hand in his and led them back to the bed. “I guess when I look in the mirror I still see myself at eleven, all scrawny and pale...”

Draco frowned as he sat on the mattress. “Yes, well, those days are far behind you. Honestly, do you think I’d date someone who wasn’t startlingly attractive?” Harry climbed onto the bed behind him and quickly set to trailing kisses across Draco’s neck and shoulders. “I do have standards you know. You’re gorgeous, Harry. Everyone knows it and you should, too.”

“And that’s why you’ve hung the portrait in the bedroom where no one will ever see it, to build up my confidence?” Harry asked playfully, his lips brushing against Draco’s skin as he spoke, his hands sweeping across Draco’s stomach, fingers stretching down towards his hipbones.

Draco leaned back into Harry’s touch. “Please. I may not be the only one who knows how beautiful you are, but I don’t want anyone else seeing you like this. This is all mine.”

“All yours,” Harry agreed, his fingers teasing at the waistband of Draco’s pyjama bottoms.

“If you think yours looks good, wait until you see the one I had done of me.”

“Where is it?”

“Downstairs, of course. I won’t share your beauty with our visitors, but I couldn’t possibly deprive them of mine.”

“Of course.”

Harry’s hand started to slide under Draco’s waistband but Draco grabbed his wrist, stilling his progress. He twisted round until he could look squarely at Harry. “If you hate it, Harry, I’ll get rid of it.”

Harry smiled. “No, don’t. I don’t hate it. It just might take me a bit to get used to it, seeing myself like that.”

“Yes, well,” Draco drawled. “That seems only fair. It took me a while to get used to it, too.”

He let go of Harry’s wrist and rolled over to lie down on the bed, stretching his limbs luxuriantly before settling in. He pushed away the encroaching blankets and fussed with his pillow for a moment. Then, when he had everything arranged to his satisfaction, he gave Harry a wicked grin.

“Now, I believe there was some talk of you expressing your gratitude for this incredible gift?”

 

 

*


End file.
